


Let Me Be Your Haven

by Anonymous



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Ignis has it bad and doesn't know it, M/M, Pining, courtship rituals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26608651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Ignis has never been affected much by his alpha nature -- until he meets Noct's new high school friend.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 93
Kudos: 278
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my venture into A/B/O! I got this idea and had to flesh it out... It's all outlined, but I'm not sure yet if it will be two or three chapters, so I'm leaving a question mark on total chapters. 
> 
> If you enjoy this, you might want to consider my other Promnis fic, [I'll Shower You With Roses](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20320672/chapters/48178330)!

_It’s just high school,_ Ignis reminded himself, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. _Noctis knows how to comport himself; he’ll be fine._

He navigated the afternoon traffic almost mindlessly, his thoughts lost in other things. He wasn’t _truly_ worried about Noct’s comportment; there were plenty of other matters to fret about. 

Ignis knew that the King’s decision for his son to attend school in a more public setting had stirred some controversy among the elite, and over the past few years, Ignis had seen more and more how isolated Noctis felt. He was indeed attending public school, but he was still very much a public figure, held in awe by his fellow students. 

Noctis presenting as an alpha last year hadn’t changed much. In fact, he was now the epitome of the perfect future leader of the country, and subject to more intense scrutiny, especially from his classmates, as they began presenting as well. They all seemed to dream of being the perfect omega to Noct’s alpha.

An alpha himself, Ignis found it rather sickening.

He hoped the King was right, and that Noctis would find true friends, but it seemed more and more that the other students who approached Noctis did so only for their own benefit, and not for his.

Ignis parked in their agreed-upon spot and waited, and soon was rewarded by the sight of Noctis, followed closely by a gangly blonde. They seemed… chummy. Noctis bumped shoulders with the other boy, and… dare he say, even smiled? A miracle. Perhaps Noct’s high school years wouldn’t be as lonely as he’d feared. Ignis’s worry eased.

Until they were close enough for Ignis to catch their scents. 

Noctis was his usual mellow cedar-and petrichor, subdued and relaxed, with that familiar alpha musk. The other boy, however, was bright-citrus-and-mint, with the floral overtone of an omega.

Ignis stiffened. 

He couldn't panic. It was only the first day of school. But the sudden alarm that this omega would cling to Noctis trying to gain his favor was hard to dismiss.

But the blonde peeled away before they reached the car. With a wave and a "G'bye, Noct! See ya tomorrow!" the blonde skipped off. 

Ignis watched until the blonde had rounded the corner before he looked at his charge. Noctis closed the distance with a casual swagger, one hand in a pocket and the other holding his school bag slung over his shoulder. He met Ignis's eyes, silently daring him to say anything.

Ignis chose not to say anything about the blonde omega. Instead, he simply asked, "How was your day?" 

It was the right choice. Noct's posture relaxed. "Good," he said. "I think this year will be good."

* * *

The omega's name was Prompto Argentum, Ignis later discovered, though Noctis didn't say much else about him. At the end of every school day, Noctis would walk out the door with Prompto at his elbow, and they'd part ways just before they reached the car, with a cheerful "See ya!" from Prompto as he skipped away.

Two weeks into the school year, Noctis made the bold step of asking Ignis to get approvals in order for Prompto to hang out with him at the apartment. Ignis, always thinking ahead, had initiated the arrangements earlier that week, once it looked like this would be more than a passing friendship. 

All the same, he couldn't help voicing the concern Regis himself had, when Ignis had approached him with the issue. 

"Be mindful," Ignis said. "You've been burned before." 

"What do you mean?" Noctis said, but the deliberate way he casually slumped into his sofa suggested he knew exactly what Ignis meant.

"Are you certain he's not just another omega after you for your position?"

Noctis bristled. "It's not like that at all," he said.

“I hope not, for your sake,” Ignis said. 

“You’ll see when you meet him,” Noctis said.

* * *

Ignis formally met this Prompto Argentum the next week, after all the paperwork had been filed, and Noctis was able to invite his new friend over. He expected the experience to be annoying, but he’d do anything for Noct -- and having a friend he selected himself was definitely good for Noct’s wellbeing. 

So Ignis squared his shoulders, and arrived to pick Noctis up as usual. This time, instead of heading away before they reached the car, Prompto hovered nervously in Noct’s wake. Ignis noticed the omega’s citrus scent turn lemony sour, perhaps with nerves. He kept a tight rein on his urge to laugh menacingly. He wouldn’t mean it, and Prompto would be likely to take it seriously. Instead, Ignis smiled. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Prompto,” he said. “Noctis thinks very highly of you.”

Prompto made a little “meep!” sound but recovered himself quickly, and gave Ignis a shaky smile. “He’s talked a lot about you, too,” he said. 

“No doubt,” Ignis replied, and gestured to the car. “Shall we?”

Noctis and Prompto piled into the back seat together and soon were lost in whatever mobile game was currently the rage. Ignis took his customary place in the driver’s seat. Then he drove them to Noct’s apartment, where they settled into the couch in front of Noct’s entertainment center -- a fine centerpiece, as Prompto was quick to comment. The omega’s gushing was endearing, Ignis realized. 

They played their game, and Ignis retreated to the kitchen to pull together snacks. He’d asked Noctis for any requests he might have, and Noctis was quick to say “no veggies” -- but Ignis still set out a veggie tray along with the nachos and salsa and charcuterie and crackers and cheese. He was pleased to see Prompto’s eyes light up at all the food. Prompto filled his own plate with a wide selection of fresh vegetables in addition to the sliced sausage and ham and gouda. 

“This is _amazing,_ Ignis,” Prompto gushed as he took a bite of a sharp cheddar. “I didn’t know there were so many different kinds of cheese!”

Noctis shrugged. “I dunno, seems normal to me,” he said. 

Prompto bumped shoulders with Noctis. _“Nothing_ in your life is normal,” he said. 

And Ignis found himself smiling, watching them. Prompto’s simple compliment had warmed something in him that Noct’s occasional lazy “thanks” never managed to. Ignis wasn’t sure if it was Prompto’s genuine-looking joy, or if it was the familiarity of Noct’s habits, or what exactly… but he found himself wanting to hear it again. 

The first visit became a second, which turned into a third, which in turn became a weekly tradition. Every Friday he was available, Noctis invited Prompto to his place, and Ignis prepared snacks for them while they relaxed and played video games and in general enjoyed each other’s company. 

Ignis found that he didn’t particularly mind being called on to chauffeur, since it was quite similar to his regular duty to Noctis -- and making enough snacks for two was no hardship, either. And he found himself carefully trying to ferret out Prompto’s tastes without being obvious -- watching what he picked, each Friday, and trying new things to see Prompto’s reactions. The results of his research -- feeding the two of them a selection of snacks tailor-made for their tastes -- was so very satisfying, especially when Prompto offered his easy and enthusiastic compliments on the food. 

Ignis wasn’t preening. He absolutely wasn’t.

* * *

One Friday, Noctis changed his plan.

Instead of asking to come back to the apartment, he asked to meet Prompto at an arcade, with some cash for them to get their own snacks. Gladio was to go with them in civilian clothes, to keep an eye on them… and Ignis was left to his own devices for the evening. 

To say he was vexed would be a slight understatement. However, he couldn’t think of any reasonable excuse to object, so Gladio arranged to pick the two up from school, and Ignis went to Noct’s apartment alone. He looked at the empty sitting room, hands on his hips. Something about the place must not be enough, that they felt they had to go out, instead of following their usual routine with games and Ignis’s snacks.

Then Ignis thought… what if it was a bit more comfortable? Noctis hadn’t done much to soften the edges, as it were; his decorating tastes were rather sterile. 

Or nonexistent, really. He was more likely to decorate the place with his rubbish.

… Perhaps some blankets. Omegas liked blankets, didn’t they? Ignis had no real idea about that sort of thing, aside from the popular media representations, which were distastefully stereotyped. But perhaps if Ignis brought some over… 

He knew that in a dusty cupboard somewhere his uncle kept some afghans that had belonged once to Ignis’s grandparents. Maybe if he brought them over, Prompto would find Noct’s place more homey. Would maybe want to stay.

… Ignis shuddered.

Whatever did he care about _that_ for? It was good for his prince to be out among his subjects; that was the whole point of his venture, staying in this apartment and attending public school. And this wasn’t _Prompto’s_ home. There was no reason for Prompto to _prefer_ to be here, and no reason for Ignis to desire it. Prompto was simply _Noct’s friend._

And what concern was it of Ignis’s, to complain about how Noctis spent his time with his friends?

Ignis shook it off, and set to tidying the place up for Noct’s return.

* * *

That weekend, Ignis dug the afghans out of his uncle’s dusty cupboard. 

They still smelled of his grandparents, stirring vague memories of a towering stern alpha and a kind portly omega. Both had passed before Ignis had gone into service to the Crown, but his memories of them were still fond. He took the blankets to his own apartment to launder them, thinking distractedly about some documentary or other that had mentioned that omegas didn’t necessarily like the smell of other unknown omegas on their things. 

On Monday, when he arrived to get Noctis ready for school, he brought the blankets along with him and artfully draped them over the back of Noct’s couch. Then he slipped into Noct’s room and began the long process of extracting him from bed.

By the time Noctis emerged from the bathroom with his shirt still unbuttoned and towel over his head, Ignis was in the kitchen preparing bacon and eggs.

“Would you check to make sure all your school things are in your satchel, Noct?” Ignis said, turning the nearly-done bacon with a fork.

“Yeah,” Noctis mumbled. “Don’t think there was--”

He paused, frozen in the act of toweling his hair dry. He looked at the afghans on the sofa, then at Ignis, and raised an eyebrow.

Ignis blinked at him. Heat suffused his face and for no discernable reason he became flustered. “I just… thought… Err… I suppose I felt the apartment needed something to make it feel… homey?” Ignis didn’t like how uncertain he sounded.

Noct’s brow pinched. “Brown and avocado? _Really?”_

“Err…” Ignis pushed the tips of his index fingers together. “I pulled them out of my uncle’s cabinet.”

Noct’s eyebrows climbed nearly to his hairline, and he stared. 

“I… suppose I could find something else in different colors,” Ignis said.

Noctis looked back at the blankets. Then he shrugged and relaxed, and started buttoning up his shirt. “I guess. I mean, Prompto’s said something about this place needing a little more… uh… color.” 

The agitation left as abruptly as it had come, and something pleased blossomed in Ignis’s chest instead.

* * *

The real test came on Friday, with Noct and Prompto’s regular activity night. Ignis arrived as usual to pick them up from school, and then forced himself not to pace while waiting for them to emerge. When he saw them exit the school, his weight shifted to the balls of his feet, and he had to keep himself from bouncing in anticipation.

He managed to keep himself calm enough that they didn’t notice anything different while he shepherded them home -- but when they entered the apartment he waited with bated breath to see what Prompto would do.

The boys’ enthusiastic chatter echoed in the hall as Ignis followed them in -- and then when they spilled out into the living room, Prompto slowed, staring at the couch. “Hey, what’s this?” he said.

“Ignis thought we could use some blankets,” Noctis said, and gave Ignis a glance that said very little to anyone except Ignis, who read it as discreet curiosity. (Noctis didn’t buy his earlier explanation, but wasn’t going to press, which was fine, because Ignis had nothing else to say about it.)

Prompto stared a moment longer before he said, “Cool!” and then settled beside Noctis on the floor in front of the TV to pick out whatever game they wanted to spend their time on that night.

Ignis let that be enough. It did no good to be disappointed, when there were so many other draws for Prompto’s attention that were more exciting than new blankets. Ignis arranged the snacks he’d prepared onto trays, and when he set the trays out on the dining table, he was just in time to spot Prompto snaking an arm back to snag the softest of the blankets to wrap around himself.

Ignis turned away to hide his smile.

* * *

Ignis stared at the display of charms and keychains as if mesmerized. 

He wasn’t, of course. And he wasn’t here to buy a charm; he was here to replenish his stocks of toiletries and make-up for formal occasions. (Noctis might get the top-of-the-line beauty products, but frugality suited Ignis, so he made do with the higher-end brands available at the local drug store.) 

But the charm on the edge of the display caught his eye -- the one with the cartoon chocobo in full gallop, bright yellow with its beak open wide in that precious chocobo smile, its eyes mere slits and its tiny wings stretched. It reminded him so much of Prompto. The yellow was so close to the shade of Prompto’s hair. And… hadn’t Prompto said once that he liked chocobos? Noctis was always sharing this or that cute chocobo video with Ignis, saying that Prompto had sent it.

There was no reason for Ignis to be buying a charm. They were not in his style, after all -- clean, and efficient was more his taste. But perhaps…

Ignis unhooked the charm from the display and added it to his basket of goods, and absolutely ignored the cashier’s glance when she came to it among the other perfectly-ordinary toiletries and sundry things Ignis was buying. 

That Friday, Ignis waited until Prompto came into the kitchen in search of another soda. Then he drew the charm from his pocket and held it out. 

Prompto stared at it, then turned questioning eyes to Ignis. 

“I, err…” Ignis stammered. There was no reason for him to have purchased any kind of trinket for Prompto. He was _Noct’s_ friend, and was only Ignis’s slight acquaintance by virtue of _being_ Noct’s friend. “It fell into my basket and I didn’t notice until I was checking out,” Ignis lied. That wasn’t what he meant to say at all, but he was committed now. “It’s not my style. Would you like it?”

Prompto’s mouth made a little “o”. “Really? I can just… have it?” His omega scent swelled.

Stunned, Ignis could only nod. 

Before he could analyze his feelings further, he felt the brush of Prompto’s fingers against his as the omega took the charm from his hand and turned it over, looking at both sides. “This… is so… adORable!” Prompto squealed. 

And then Prompto’s omega scent spiked, a potpourri of gratitude and glee that was uniquely Prompto-flavoured.

And then Ignis wrestled for several paralyzing heartbeats with a rush of satisfaction at this small success -- so raw and primal that it was also alarming. And he clamped his teeth against the _sound_ he almost made; something between a growl and a purr, if the feeling in his throat was to be trusted. 

“Thank you!” Prompto said, beaming at him. 

And only then was Ignis able to manage a curt “You’re welcome,” but his voice sounded slightly strangled from the effort of suppressing whatever _else_ was going on. He had no idea why he would react so fiercely to Prompto accepting such a small gift. It was nothing; just a trinket. 

Prompto danced out of the kitchen, turning the charm back and forth in his hand. “Hey, Noct, look at this!” he said, before he and Noctis faded into chatter.

A little later, Noctis came into the kitchen. “What was that?” he said. 

“What was what?” Ignis said, his full attention on the sink full of dishes. 

Noctis sidled in next to him, close enough that their elbows bumped. “That… gift.”

“It was nothing,” Ignis said, trying to ignore how his face was burning. “I just. Found it. And thought Prompto might like it.”

Noctis was very still at his side, and Ignis paused in scrubbing the pan in his hands to look at him. Noct’s eyes shone blue in the shadow of his hair. His eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips. “Just don’t hurt him, ‘kay? He has enough trouble in his life.”

Ignis was shocked. “Whatever are you talking about? It was just a charm. It was nothing.”

Noctis squinted at him a moment more before he shrugged and turned away. “Whatever you say, Specs,” he said, and went back to his games.

That was… odd.

Ignis’s eyes followed Noctis as he made his way back to the entertainment center and he and Prompto put their heads together again. Prompto was wrapped up in one of the blankets Ignis had brought, and that warmed his heart, distracting him from Noct’s obviously pointed and completely baffling warning.

If Prompto liked the charm, then Ignis was content.

* * *

After that, Ignis found himself seeking out more little gifts to please Prompto. Stickers. A chocobo plush. A pencil with a floppy rubber chocobo topper. Candies he knew Prompto fancied. When he discovered Prompto’s photography hobby, he found himself browsing through the photography magazines at the bookstore, and picking out an issue with particularly fine images of wildlife in the Duscaean wetlands.

Each time he presented Prompto with one of these little gifts, he would find some excuse to have it that had nothing to do with picking it out specifically for Prompto. Each time, Prompto would overflow with gratitude, and each time Ignis would preen and hold back the urge to make some kind of unseemly noise. But the satisfaction on Prompto’s face -- the joy in his _scent_ \-- was worth it.

Every so often, after Ignis had presented that day’s gift to Prompto, he would catch Noctis looking at him thoughtfully. But each time, before Ignis could ask what was wrong, Noctis would turn away.

* * *

The week before Prompto’s birthday, Noctis declared another arcade excursion. It was the same arrangement as before; he and Prompto would go, with Gladio in tow, and enough cash to purchase their own food, leaving Ignis to himself, yet again. He let himself into Noct’s apartment and looked around. The place was fairly tidy, all things considered, and there wasn’t much for him to do. 

The afghans were all bunched up at one end of the couch. Prompto had arranged them into some sort of nest the last time he’d visited, and Noctis had just left them there. Ignis considered them, a finger set to his chin.

He was loath to disturb Prompto’s “nest”, but they were still the same afghans from his uncle’s, handmade and irregular-shaped, with outdated colors. Surely Ignis could do better… 

He made a decision. He bundled all the blankets up into one of the laundry bags he kept stored in Noct’s linen cabinet, and took them home. Then he raided his own stash -- aside from his own bedding, he had three blankets of his own stowed away, that never saw any use, because he was seldom cold.

He gathered them together -- but the three blankets didn’t look like quite enough. He thought for a moment. Towels wouldn’t do, but… he had some bulky sweaters; knitted hand-me-downs from his grandparents that he never wore but couldn’t bear to dispose of. He piled those in with the blankets with scarcely another thought. 

When he returned to Noct’s apartment, Gladio was there. “Prompto’s gone home,” he said, before Ignis could ask. “Early night tonight, since he has to work tomorrow.”

“And Noct?” Ignis asked. 

Gladio gestured to the back hallway. “Bathroom,” he said. “What you got there?”

Ignis lowered the laundry bag and pulled it open. “Just some things for the living room,” he said, and turned the contents of the bag out onto the couch.

“Hmmm,” Gladio said. “I thought I noticed something different. Those old blankets were so--” Then Gladio froze. “Wait. What’s this?” He picked up one of the sweaters. 

“A sweater?” Ignis said. Surely sweaters weren’t… unusual. “Why?”

“What do you mean, _why?”_ Gladio said. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think these were--” He looked at the blankets again. “Wait. You… Are you giving Prompto _nesting materials?”_

Ignis scoffed. “I don’t know what you’re--”

“Seriously, Igs. Blankets? Sweaters? And…” he pulled the sleeve up to his nose. “You brought these from _your house.”_

“Yes, I do occasionally bring things from my apartment to Noct’s,” Ignis said testily. “I fail to see--”

“Tell me you haven’t been _giving_ Prompto things,” Gladio said.

“I…” Ignis found himself at a complete loss for words.

Gladio’s face went slack with dawning realization. “You have. You’ve been giving him _favors.”_

 _“Favors?_ No! I just--!”

“What have you been giving him?” 

“All kinds of stuff,” Noctis said, and he was suddenly right there between them, eyeing Ignis like he was some kind of puzzle. “Keychains, food, cute stickers, magazines…” 

“How long has this been going on?” 

Ignis opened his mouth, but Noctis beat him to it. “Weeks,” Noctis said. 

Gladio looked at him. “And Prompto’s been _accepting them?”_

Noctis shrugged. “You know, I’m not sure he really… understands… what they mean. But he hasn’t given any of them back.”

They both looked at Ignis. Then Gladio’s mouth crooked in a half-smile. “ Don't tell me I have to spell it out for you,” he said.

“What?” Ignis said, getting irritated. He didn’t like feeling like the odd one out of some kind of inside joke. 

“Iggy, this… is _courting behavior.”_

Stunned, Ignis blinked. “It’s… _what??”_

Noctis rolled his eyes and walked over to a bookshelf, then pulled out a slim volume with a tacky, over-designed cover. He thumbed through several pages, and then started reading. “‘When an alpha wants to show interest,’” Noctis said, in a singsong tone, “‘the alpha will present the omega with a token or favor, which -- if accepted -- will initiate courtship. If the omega accepts the initial gift, the alpha may make what’s called an “alpha grunt”--’ You know, maybe he didn’t; I’ve never heard Ignis make that kind of noise.”

Ignis swallowed and desperately tried to forget the sound he had _almost_ made. Had barely _kept_ himself from making. 

Then he felt Gladio’s eyes on him. “Ignis?” 

Ignis wanted to look anywhere but at Gladio’s concerned face. “Truly, Gladio, I… I had no idea.”

"Seriously, Specs?" Noctis said, and waved the book at him. "This was in the basic maturation program."

“How do you just _not know this stuff?”_ Gladio asked. “You know _everything.”_

"You do remember that I was privately tutored?” Ignis snapped. “All my maturation talks were handled by my uncle."

There was a moment of awkward silence.

"Oh," Gladio said at last. "That… actually explains a lot."

Noctis just stared in astonishment at Ignis like he was some new curious oddity that he'd never seen before.

Ignis drew himself up, trying to ignore the shame bubbling in his chest.

“I didn’t feel particularly inclined to do further research on the subject at the time," he said. "It was rather embarrassing, and I always figured I would have plenty of time to learn more before it became relevant.”

Gladio sent him a level look. “You’re a teenager and your body’s waking up to its primal needs, Iggy… ‘Fraid it’s relevant now.”

Ignis raised an eyebrow at him. “Thank you for that astute and vulgar observation. Now will you two leave me alone and let me die of mortification in peace?”

They took mercy on him and left him there. He quickly packed all the blankets and sweaters back into the laundry bag he’d brought them in, and fled.

Once in the safety of his own apartment, he dropped the offending laundry bag at the entrance by his shoes and stalked to the bathroom. He splashed cold water on his face, and leaned against the counter for several heartbeats before he could meet his own eyes in the mirror. The face he saw was not a face he recognized; he could see his own embarrassment and confusion in the line of his brow and the tremor of his lips. He didn’t like this feeling, but even more than that, he didn’t like how much he felt as though he’d lost control.

He walked back out into his apartment, past the pile of ancient afghans that he’d left on the floor by his own sofa. He wasn’t sure what he’d planned to do with them, but… He picked one up by the corner and… could smell it. It smelled faintly of Noct’s apartment, but even more, it smelled of _Prompto,_ who had been the only one to use the afghans in all the time they’d been on Noct’s couch. 

And Ignis winced at the sudden, gleeful surge inside, that he now recognized as his inner alpha, who had found a desirable omega companion.

He dropped the afghan as though it had burned him.

This wouldn’t do. This wouldn’t do at all. 

They were both teenagers; both still in high school. It was hardly the time to be forming lasting bonds like this. 

Astrals, Ignis had long assumed that he didn’t have room in his heart _or_ his schedule for romantic ties; he’d accepted it as fact. And it wouldn't do for him, as Noct's advisor, to make moves on Noct's friend. It had the potential to make things too awkward, if their romance failed. If this was even romance, and not just a passing crush.

Ignis swallowed the feral surge of dismay. There was nothing for it. He would have to hold back. Act with propriety. It would be for the best. 

Ignis took a deep breath and bundled the old afghans into his laundry machine to wash Prompto's scent away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto basks in Ignis’s unexpected attention... until it disappears.

When Prompto finally got up the gumption to introduce himself to Noctis, he did it _knowing_ he’d be an object of scrutiny by the prince’s associates. 

He didn’t expect Noct’s associates to be so terrifying. 

The memory of Noct’s advisor looking down his nose at Prompto still made him shudder. He’d felt every ounce of the guy’s judgement. He could only imagine what Scientia was thinking: that Prompto was obviously foreign, small, awkward... He only barely kept himself from imagining that Ignis had x-ray vision and could see all of Prompto’s _other_ faults: his stretch marks, his anxiety, the weird barcode branded into his skin… 

And of course Ignis wouldn’t miss that Prompto was an omega.

Noctis had warned him straight off that his “people” were kind of cagey about omegas trying to curry favor with the prince, worm their way into his good graces. That _totally_ wasn’t what Prompto was trying to do -- and Noctis knew it, which was great, but his “people” wouldn’t be as easy to convince.

On their first day as friends, Prompto didn’t stick around to make it a problem. He split with a quick “G'bye, Noct! See ya tomorrow!” and bounced out of sight.

And he continued to do that for the next two weeks. He really didn’t want trouble, and at the very least would avoid it for as long as possible.

But he couldn’t avoid it forever. When Noctis finally invited him over, Prompto knew he’d be under a microscope the whole time. Or maybe had already been. Surely Noctis wouldn’t have been allowed to invite him over if his background wasn’t examined inside and out. He tried to hide his nerves, but he was sure he wasn’t completely successful, based on the way Ignis’s mouth quirked when they were introduced. But Ignis was all politeness, all the same.

And Prompto discovered, over the next few weeks, that 1) Noctis was a great friend, if shy (geeky under his refined shell, and anxious for another friend to be geeky with), and 2) Ignis was kind of amazing. He made super-tasty snacks, and he turned Noct’s apartment into kind of an awesome refuge, and Prompto always felt comfortable when he was there.

Prompto was even more comfortable after Ignis brought the blankets. 

He wasn’t sure what inspired Ignis to bring them, but one Friday when they got to Noct’s apartment, the blankets were just… there. As soon as he saw them, Prompto stopped in his tracks. “Hey, what’s this?” he said. 

“Ignis thought we could use some blankets,” Noctis said, with a glance in his Advisor’s direction. 

And all Prompto could say in response was “Cool!” and he totally said it in an off-hand way, and no one could tell that on the inside he was completely flustered. 

Neither of Prompto’s parents were omegas, so they didn’t really have a lot of blankets, and the ones they had weren’t all that comfortable. They were crocheted from cheap, scratchy acrylic yarn, which… was fine. Like everything they did for him was fine. 

Honestly, they hadn’t been much help to him, when it came to omega stuff. 

They were away on a two-week business trip when Prompto’s sixth-grade class had its basic maturation program on at school, and to his great embarrassment Prompto had been sick that day. and his parents hadn’t really talked to him about it when they came back. He’d thought about bringing it up, but it had never felt like the right time to say anything. 

They didn’t really know all that much about omega stuff anyway. And when Prompto tried to look stuff up online on his own, the things he found scared him so bad he’d never gone back to learn more. 

So he wasn’t really sure why he was feeling the way he was feeling now. Like Ignis was this _amazing_ guy, and Noct’s place just felt _safe_ because Ignis was there, and now Ignis had brought _blankets,_ and yeah, the colors were kinda… dated… but they looked really soft. 

And when Prompto joined Noctis in front of the TV for games, he couldn’t help snagging one of them, and wrapping it around himself, and it was just as soft as it looked -- softer, even! -- and he snuggled into it and was just so relaxed. It smelled of the laundry detergent Ignis used. Prmopto breathed it in and couldn’t help a small sigh. Noctis looked sidelong at him, but Prompto didn’t care. This was nice.

(And if he snuck the smallest blanket home to curl up in during his heat the next week, well. He laundered it, and snuck it back into Noct’s apartment that Friday, and no one was the wiser.)

* * *

Not too long after that, Ignis started giving him things. 

First came the cutest chocobo charm Prompto had ever seen. Ignis insisted that he’d come across it on accident, so it didn’t really mean anything, but Prompto had a hard time wrestling down that feeling inside that said it was something special. 

When he showed it to Noctis, the prince got the weirdest look on his face.

“Specs _gave_ you that?” Noctis said.

“Yeah! Isn’t it great?”

Noctis made some noncommittal noise, and finished the last lap of his MariusKart run. Then he set the controller down. “Back in a sec,” he said, and headed back into the kitchen. Prompto figured it was to refill the snacks or something, but when he came back in several minutes later, his hands were empty and his face looked thoughtful and strange. 

“You okay, dude?” Prompto asked. 

Noctis shivered, and nodded his head. “Yeah.” Then he squinted at Prompto. “You know, you don’t have to just… take the stuff Specs gives you. Right?” 

Prompto scrunched his nose, puzzled. “Well. Yeah? But… it’s so cute! I mean, I couldn’t turn it away. Look at it!” He held it up, and let it dangle, spinning, from his fingers.

“Yeah, it’s cute all right.” Noctis sighed. “Prompto, look… You… uh. Nevermind.” He shrugged and picked up his controller again.

* * *

Ignis’s gifts didn’t stop with the charm.

Prompto stuck the stickers to the cover of his favorite notebook. He gave the chocobo plush a prized place on his bed. He ate the candies, thinking all the while about how thoughtful Ignis was, and how no one had ever been that thoughtful before.

And the photo magazine… he read it so much it was dog-eared before the week was out. 

The gifts meant _so much_ to him, but aside from his initial ‘thanks’, he kept it to himself. Ignis made a point to say that it was no big deal on his part. According to him, he just… came by these things. There was no special reason for him to be buying stuff for Prompto, anyway. And he was always doing stuff for Noct; it’s just the kind of guy he was.

So Prompto just accepted them. 

One Friday, when they passed through Noct’s kitchen on the way to the entertainment center, Ignis nabbed Prompto and almost-shyly presented him with a can of his favorite fruity soda. Noctis watched in silence, then while Prompto still stared in awe at the can, Noctis sighed, grabbed his arm, and tugged him over to the couch. 

Prompto settled into the corner with the blankets, but looked up when he noticed how still Noctis was. To his surprise, he found Noctis looking at him, expression unreadable. When their eyes met, Noctis opened his mouth. 

“You… ah… remember the maturation thing they had back when we were… what… twelve?”

Prompto scrunched up his nose. “Yeah, sort of. I mean, I know they had it, but I missed it.”

Noct’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “You what?”

“Yeah, lucky, huh?” Prompto laughed. “I was sick that day.”

Noctis blinked at him and his bewildered expression made Prompto laugh again, shaky and thin. 

“So…” Noctis said, and his voice sounded a little strangled. “When you, ah, presented… did you have, like, _any_ kind of… talk? With anyone?”

And now this was getting a little personal, but it was _Noctis,_ so Prompto humored him. “Stars, dude, who would I have talked to? My parents were out of town and I didn’t have _you_ to talk to then.”

Noctis looked more than a little stunned. “Prompto, I think—”

Ignis walked in with snacks, and Noctis hissed and went silent. Then they ate and played games, and Prompto didn’t bring it up again, and neither did Noctis. 

And that was okay.

Prompto came every Friday (and sometimes stayed until Saturday) and curled up in the corner of the couch, wrapped in blankets with a smell that reminded him of Ignis, and over time, Noct’s apartment just felt more and more like his real home. 

One Friday, just before his second heat of the school year, Prompto found himself in his usual corner of the sofa, compulsively tucking the blankets into a neater circle, because it just… didn’t feel right. He was just thinking that another blanket might be just enough to make everything perfect when he noticed Noctis staring.

Prompto froze. “What?” he asked.

Noctis squinted at him. “Prompto, are you…?” he started, then he shook his head. “Nevermind.” 

Prompto side-eyed him. “Oooookay, dude… You sure?”

Noctis nodded, and they settled in for gaming.

Prompto was too self-conscious to futz with the blankets anymore after that. And he didn’t sneak one away this time, for his heat. Instead, he endured as he always had before meeting Noctis, but he did it longing the whole time for his cozy corner of Noct’s couch, the soft blankets, and the scent of Ignis’s detergent.

  
  


* * *

Then it all stopped.

They went to an arcade one weekend, and the next…

Ignis picked them up as usual, but there was something off. Prompto noticed it in the scent; Ignis’s sandalwood and leather was darker, with hints of burned coffee. Ignis’s greeting was perfectly professional, but curt. He didn’t rise to any small talk; he just drove them straight to Noct’s apartment. And as soon as they got there, Ignis made his excuses and left. Almost ran out of there in a hurry to get away. 

And yeah, that was weird… but even weirder was Noct’s reaction. He looked kinda angry. 

“Something going on, dude?” Prompto asked. 

“He’s just… got stuff to do,” Noctis said, but it was sullen-sounding.

Worse, when they got into the sitting room, the blankets were _gone._

Prompto stared at the empty corner of the couch. Where the blankets had been bundled up all perfectly, it was completely bare. It felt like a punch to the gut. Prompto couldn’t even really figure out what was wrong, or why it would hit him so hard. It was just a pile of blankets. A pile… that smelled a little of Ignis, and had been _perfectly arranged_ but why did that matter so much?

Why did he feel like crying?

Noct’s hand on his arm jolted him out of whatever spiral he was stuck in, and Prompto shuddered. 

“You okay?” Noctis said. Prompto hadn’t even noticed him come in. He held a tray of goodies Ignis must have left out for them, and his face was open and sympathetic, but to what, Prompto had no idea. 

There was no reason for him to feel like this. He pasted on his most practiced smile and said, “Yeah, I’m great! Ready for some Smash Bros?”

Noctis eyed him for a moment. Then his shoulders slumped and he smiled. “Yeah,” he said. 

They played. Ignis didn’t come back. 

When it was time for Prompto to head home, Noctis offered to have Ignis come pick him up, but Prompto just laughed. “I’ll just take the bus like a normal person; don’t bother Ignis with that.” 

“It’s… I mean, I’m sure it’s not a bother,” Noctis tried, but it wasn’t convincing.

“Don’t even, with that,” Prompto said. “He seemed off tonight, I don’t wanna bug him.”

It took a little more convincing, but finally Prompto skipped out the door with as cheerful a “Bye!” as he could muster. His skipping stride lasted only long enough to get out of Noct’s sight, and then it slowed, and he plodded along to the bus, wondering why everything was so off tonight, and why he felt like crying. He may actually have shed some tears in the semi-solitude of public transit. He was sure people were staring, but no one said anything to him, as per the unspoken rule of bus-riding. He slipped off the bus at his stop and made his way home.

He let himself into the empty house. His parents were away again, and it just felt so… desolate. Not like home. Not like Noct’s apartment -- at least, not the one with the blankets and Ignis in the kitchen making treats. 

Prompto sighed and made himself go to bed -- but not before he scoured the entire house for blankets to pile on and around his bed. Even if they were scratchy, at least they were something; and once he had them in place, he felt a little more… safe. 

But it wasn’t quite right, because they didn’t smell like Ignis.

* * *

Two weeks later, the dread built up so much that he had to ask.

He finally got up the courage at the end of a round of Smash Bros, as the results flashed up on the screen. Prompto’s Crom avatar was doing his victory pose, while Noct’s Kid Icarus applauded, and Prompto set his controller down with a sigh. “Did I… do something wrong?” 

Noctis jolted like he’d had an electric shock. “No! What? What’re you talking about?” 

“It’s just… Ignis keeps leaving. He used to stick around while we were gaming, but now he leaves. And he took the blankets away.” Prompto winced inside. That came out way more petulant-sounding than he’d intended.

Noct looked bewildered for a moment, but then seemed to make some kind of connection. His nose twisted. “No, you didn’t do anything,” he said. “He’s just being stupid.” 

Something was off in the tone of Noct’s voice, so Prompto wasn’t sure he believed him. “But… the blankets. Why did he take the blankets away?” 

“They weren’t really his,” Noctis said. “They came from his uncle’s house.”

Something loosened in Prompto’s chest. “Oh,” he said, not quite relaxing. “Will he bring them back? It was kinda nice to have them here.” 

The look Noctis gave him was a mix of sympathy and something else Prompto couldn’t identify. Noctis shrugged and glanced away. “I dunno. Depends.”

 _On what?_ Prompto wanted to ask. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer, and something was definitely off about Noct’s responses. He didn’t want to make it more weird, so he just picked up his controller again and they continued to play. 

Still, he couldn’t stop his mind from churning a mile a minute, trying to suss out what he’d done. 

It took until the next day, after breakfast, when he’d dragged out his homework to trudge through, that it occurred to him. He was nervously twisting at his elastic wristband and the black lines of the weird barcode on his wrist peeked out for a moment. 

Prompto’s parents couldn’t tell him anything about the barcode. He’d had it before he came to them, and he’d been so, so young. Wherever he’d come from, it was okay to tattoo babies. There were photos of his barcode in his adoption papers. 

… His _papers._

When they’d checked him out, before Noctis could officially hang out with him, _how deep had they looked?_

And did _Ignis_ see it? 

He must have… and Prompto had the sudden, sinking feeling that Ignis _knew,_ and maybe that’s why he suddenly thought Prompto wasn’t worth the attention.

… Prompto shook himself. Ignis _hadn’t_ really said anything to imply that there was a problem. Not really. So why was he so certain that Ignis didn’t like him anymore? 

No, this… this had to be a misunderstanding.

But now Prompto was watching, and the next time they were together, he catalogued every last interaction Ignis had with him. The way Ignis’s eyes slid away from Prompto as they approached the car. The way Ignis avoided any casual touch. The bitter undertone of his sandalwood scent. His slight exhale when Noctis asked if he was coming up to the apartment with them, right before Ignis brushed them off _again._

Something was wrong. Something was definitely off.

And Prompto couldn’t help but think that it was _his fault._

After all, he was just a plebe, and Noctis was a prince -- a fine alpha, poised to be sculpted into the future ruler of Lucis. Moreover, Prompto was an _omega_ \-- and as such, his motives for befriending the prince were suspect. And he could scream all day about how it just wasn’t like that at all, but it wouldn’t matter to _some_ people. 

Especially if those “some people” decided to look more closely at Prompto’s origins. Because he was _clearly_ not a born-and-bred Lucian. Not by any stretch. 

_One_ of those things might be enough for Ignis to decide that Prompto wasn’t worthy companionship. All of them? Well, it might be enough for the Citadel security to run him out of Insomnia altogether, just to get him away from their precious prince.

Prompto wasn’t sure he could handle that.

He knew he was catastrophizing; he _knew_ it -- but if any of the bajillion scenarios running through his head happened, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to bear it. Maybe this growing distance was Ignis’s way of clueing him in; of letting him know that it wouldn’t last. 

Maybe he should be grateful for the warning.

He’d just have to make the break himself, before something more painful happened.

* * *

It was nearing Prompto’s birthday now. Noctis had dropped hints here and there that made Prompto think maybe Noctis was planning something like an all-night arcade run, lots of pizza, and maybe an overnighter at Noct’s apartment. Prompto needed to head it off at the curve, for sure, before Noctis could spend money on him that he’d regret in the future.

So he made an excuse that Friday, that he wasn’t feeling well enough to stay for game night at Noct’s and really needed to get home instead. His heat wasn’t for another week at least, but he maaaay have dropped some misleading hints, because Noctis didn’t pay attention to things like that. 

Ever the gentleman, Noctis was too proper to ask further. That didn’t stop him from looking disappointed. 

Ignis surprised him by asking, “Would you like a ride home?” There seemed to be genuine dismay in his voice, and _why did he have to look so GOOD with that concerned expression, ASTRALS..._

Prompto immediately shook his head. “No, no -- I’ll be fine. The walk’ll be good for me!” Thankfully, Ignis didn’t argue, and neither did Noctis, though the scowl on his face could have curdled milk. 

The walk WAS good. The crisp early Autumn air was refreshing. And Prompto totally didn’t spend the whole time thinking about the smell of Ignis’s snacks or the soft feel of Ignis’s blankets around him, or the betrayed look on Noct’s face when Prompto had said “I’ve gotta go home”. 

When he arrived at home, Prompto let himself into his house, and tried to remember if there were any frozen dinners left, while he ignored the pain in his heart.

* * *

Their Friday game night tradition now broken, the next step was to make himself _actually_ busy enough to have legitimate excuses. 

Having a job wasn’t ideal for an early high-schooler, but it would definitely fill his schedule, and Noctis wouldn’t be able to accuse him of just flaking out. Besides, the extra grocery money would be kind of nice. The money his parents were sending him wasn’t _quite_ enough to tide him through to their next deposit. Luckily, the little shop at the edge of his neighborhood was looking for someone to work in the stock room, and a nice strapping high schooler fit the bill just fine. 

The next Friday, when Noct offered a hopeful invitation to come over for gaming, Prompto was ready. “Sorry,” he said. “I’ve got a shift tonight.”

Noctis jolted to a stop. “A what?”

“A… shift?” 

“Since when do you have a job?” Noctis asked, and yep, there was definitely a hint of anger in there.

“Since this week?” Prompto said. “I just—”

“How come you didn’t say anything?” Noctis sounded betrayed, and sure, they’d gotten to the point that they shared most news between them. Except they _didn’t,_ because Noctis _also_ had a job: Crown Prince. And he _couldn’t_ tell Prompto everything about what went on at the Citadel. Sometimes all Prompto got, when Noctis had to cancel on him, was ‘we just had Crown stuff going on’ and Prompto had to be satisfied with that. 

But Prompto couldn’t get mad about that. 

“It’s just been a busy week,” he said. “You know. History test and all.” 

“That history test was a breeze.” 

“Yeah, for _you,_ maybe, ‘cuz you got Lucian history spoonfed to you with your fairy tales growing up.” And maybe that was a little harsh, and maybe Prompto’s voice sounded a little testy, because he didn’t like this line of questioning, but that didn’t really prepare him for the anger that flashed in Noct’s eyes.

“Whatever,” Noctis muttered, and shouldered his bag and stomped away. 

Prompto didn’t like that one bit, but he couldn’t follow, because he really did have a shift and he needed to get home to prepare for it, so he just slung his own bag over his shoulder and walked away in the opposite direction, so he wouldn’t have to see Ignis.

* * *

There was one more Friday before his birthday, and Prompto made sure he was scheduled to work. Noctis made his tentative invitation to come over, and Prompto shook his head — but instead of just accepting it this time, Noctis snapped. 

“What the HELL is going on?” he said.

Prompto quailed in the face of Noct’s anger. “I…?”

“You’ve been avoiding me ever since that _blanket_ incident, and I think I have a right to know—”

“I’m not _avoiding_ you, I just—”

“You won’t come over anymore, and it’s like you—”

“It’s not _you_ Noct—”

“But there is _something,_ isn’t there?” 

Prompto bit his lip. 

“I knew it.” Noctis dropped his bag at his feet and put his hands on Prompto’s shoulders. “Look, we’re friends, right?” His tone begged for this to be true, like he doubted that Prompto would consider himself Noct’s friend. That couldn’t be right, though; it should be the other way around. “Prompto — you can _tell_ me. Please.”

His face was open and earnest and _begging,_ and the Prince of Lucis shouldn’t beg. Prompto’s mouth fell open. “I just… I mean.” He swallowed. “You’re the Prince.”

“Yeah. And?”

“And I’m just a… a nobody omega.” 

Noct’s eyes shot wide. 

In the stunned silence that followed, Prompto could hear his own heart pounding a frantic beat in his ears. Then he couldn’t help the word vomit that spewed out before Noctis could say anything to confirm his fears. “I mean, that’s why Ignis stopped hanging out with us, right? He knows I’m some nobody; just some adopted kid that’s not even really from Lucis anyway, and he probably thinks I’m not good enough to hang out with you and I know it’s just a matter of time before he’s gonna tell you I’m—” 

“Wait, what does _Ignis_ have to do with this?”

“H-he used to stick around while we were gaming?” Prompto stammered. “He brought those b-blankets over, he gave me stuff, and then he just… stopped? Coming? He took the blankets away? Why would he do that if he thought it was okay for me to be around?”

Noct’s eyes narrowed. “I’m gonna kill him,” he said. Then he grabbed his bag, turned on his heel, and stomped away. 

Prompto’s heart thudded even harder, and he reached out too late. “Wait, Noct…!” But Noctis was gone, out the front doors of the school, leaving Prompto standing alone by his locker, with the sinking realization that he probably had started a fight. He didn’t know how to fix it.

* * *

Prompto fretted all through his shift that night. When he checked his phone, He didn't have any messages, and he didn't know if that was good or bad. Probably bad. He got home late and burrowed into the blankets on his bed (and he totally didn’t wish they smelled like Ignis). He was asleep before he could change into his pajamas. 

He woke to the sound of his phone pinging. He blinked the crusties out of his eyes, and deeply regretted crashing before taking his contacts out. Still, he reached a hand to his nightstand and fumbled about, patting around before he found his phone and pulled it close to squint at a cascade of messages from Noctis.

 **Prince Night Sky [9:04am]:** clear your after school schedule Monday  
 **Prince Night Sky [9:04am]:** got some things to talk about

He felt a quick flash of surprise at Noctis being awake so early on a Saturday — but once that faded, Prompto’s heart dropped. His anxiety eagerly catalogued for him all the possible "things" the Prince of Lucis might have to talk about with a lowly Niff-born omega. He desperately wished for it to stop. 

When it came down to it, there was really only one answer. It was the Crown Prince, after all, and if he wanted to talk to you, you didn’t just blow it off, no matter how sure you were that it was going to be bad. 

So he bit down his panic and typed out “sure” and then dragged himself out of bed to pry his damn contacts out of his burning eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis gets an education and Prompto has a fright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah, sorry for the wait! >_< Had a bunch of obligations come up, but I'M BACK NOW and the rest of the fic is roughed out; it SHOULD only have one more chapter. Unless Prompto gets a mind of his own again like he did in this chapter. (That boy...)

When Ignis picked Noctis up from school that Friday, he could tell there was something wrong. Noctis yanked the car door open, climbed in, and slammed the door shut behind him, and the cabin immediately filled with Noct’s sharp scent. Not his usual cedar and petrichor, no; it was the acrid scent of burning sage. 

Noctis was furious.

For some reason, deep in Ignis’s gut, he bristled. He quickly suppressed it. He’d been getting irate over too many little things lately. Instead of rising to the impulse, Ignis pressed forward with his standard greeting. “Good afternoon, Highness,” he said. “I hope school went well.”

Noctis said nothing. Not a good sign. 

Ignis pressed on, despite the cues. “Where is Prompto? Is he coming over tonight?” 

Noct’s furious scent spiked before Ignis finished the sentence, and he knew he’d stepped in it. But still Noctis said nothing. Ignis struggled not to rise to the provocation (why did he see it as a provocation?) and cleared his throat. “Very well,” he said, and pulled away from the curb.

Noctis continued the silent treatment all the way home. The instant Ignis parked, Noctis left the car without speaking and slammed the door yet again, and stomped his way up to the apartment, with Ignis trailing behind, wondering what he’d done. 

Because it was definitely something _Ignis_ had done. If it had been anyone else, Noctis definitely wouldn’t hold back his complaints. For the life of him, Ignis couldn’t imagine what the problem could be. He hadn’t done anything out of the norm. He thought. No extra vegetables in Noct’s lunch, no unusual requests or annoying schedule changes… He’d even let him sleep in a little longer this morning. 

Ahead of him, Noctis threw open the apartment door, kicked his shoes off into the corner of the entryway, and stomped into the depths of the apartment before Ignis could even close the front door behind himself. Ignis ignored Noct’s behavior (and his own rising irritation). Instead, he carefully and methodically exchanged his shoes for his slippers, and took measured steps deeper into the apartment, hoping that in the time he took, Noctis would have a chance to calm down enough to be rational.

Walking out of the hallway into the apartment proper was almost like hitting a wall. Noctis hadn’t been there long, but it had been enough to fill the room with his fury, and the scent set Ignis even more on edge. He kept careful rein on his own emotions; he was well-enough practiced at that.

Noctis had taken a seat in the center of the sofa, with his arms spread posessively across the back, and he glowered at Ignis through his bangs. 

Ignis folded his arms. “I think you’ve made your point, Noct,” he said. “I can tell you’re upset, and I know it’s something _I_ did, but until you tell me what the problem is, I can’t possibly begin to sort things out again.”

“I thought I told you not to hurt him,” Noctis said coldly.

Ignis blinked in confusion. Then he found his voice again. “Hurt-- You mean Prompto.”

“Of _course_ I mean Prompto. Who else?” 

This didn’t make sense at all. Ignis had gone out of his way to leave Prompto alone specifically so he _didn’t_ do anything to hurt him. And he told Noctis so.

In answer, Noctis rolled his eyes. “You know, Ignis, sometimes it surprises me how stupid you can be.” 

Ignis stiffened, hackles rising. “I beg your--” 

“Look, I get it, you think you messed up -- but what you’re doing now? Not cool.” 

“I’m not doing anything!” 

“Oh yeah?” Noctis countered. “What about the _blankets?”_

Ignis glanced at the bare spot where they’d been piled. “I returned them to my uncle’s house. That’s where they belonged.” 

“I know that. But you didn’t _replace_ them.” 

Ignis adjusted his glasses in part to hide his discomfiture. “I didn’t think I needed to.” 

Noctis threw his hands in the air. “Prompto thinks you hate him, and that he’s not worthy to be my friend, and _thank you very much_ for that, by the way.” 

“But that’s not what I--!” 

“Ignis, you were _courting him.”_

Ignis didn’t contradict that, because he couldn’t. He hadn’t _intended_ to court Prompto, but there was no other way to look at it -- especially when his inner alpha confirmed it.

“And then you just completely stopped. You stopped giving him things, you stopped sticking around when he was over… You took away his nesting stuff! What was he _supposed_ to think?” 

“Well, I’m sure I don’t know, Highness,” Ignis snapped. “I was only doing what I felt best for all concerned, considering the two of us are still minors and in school, and it’s hardly the time of life for either of us to be considering a serious relationship.”

“And I’m sure you talked this over with _Prompto,_ right? You considered how _he_ felt about all this?” 

“Of _course_ I considered how he felt. I’m sure he would love nothing more than for me to leave him alone so he can focus on his schooling.”

Noctis made an inarticulate noise in his throat that sounded for all the world like a growl. “You _didn’t_ talk to him. I can tell, because if you _had,_ you’d know that he’s a complete wreck. He thinks you hate him, he thinks you think he shouldn’t be spending time with me. Did you know he went and got a job?”

“He what?” 

“Yeah. He didn’t even tell me until he had a shift on Game Night and couldn’t come. And don’t you _dare_ say that’s a coincidence.” 

“But isn’t that--”

“Prompto wouldn’t do something like that and not tell me about it,” Noctis snapped. 

“You think he did that because of _me?”_

“YOU tell me what it is.” 

Ignis couldn’t. He couldn’t find any reason for Prompto to behave that way, unless he was trying to put distance between himself and Noct -- and he couldn’t figure _any_ reason for that at all. Unless… 

Noctis stared at him, eyebrow raised and lips pursed. Whatever he saw on Ignis’s face, he took a deep breath and his bitter sage scent faded nearly fully into spicy petrichor as he calmed. “You know, it’s not my place to tell you how to live your life, but you reeeeally need to know what messages you’re sending. Astrals, I wish…” He sighed and dragged his hand over his face. Then he walked over to the bookcase. “I can’t have this discussion with you because this is too weird. But. I think you need to read this. Like, cover to cover.” Noctis pulled the awful maturation book from the shelf, and shoved it into Ignis’s hands. “And. Um. My dad was really good at answering my questions, so if you. Ah. have any? You can ask him?” 

From the sudden rush of heat to his face, Ignis wouldn’t have been surprised if he burst into flame. “Ah, I hardly think that’s… a conversation I want to have with my employer.” _My king._ Ignis clutched the book to his chest and didn’t look at it.

“Promise me you’ll read that,” Noctis said. “Promise.”

Ignis tried to smother his humiliation and nodded. 

Noct’s shoulders slumped and he exhaled. “Okay,” he said. “Look -- I’m okay here tonight and you’ve got some reading to do, so… you can just. Like. Go home. And I’ll see you in the morning, I guess?” 

Yes, Ignis needed to go home. He wasn’t about to sit in Noct’s apartment while his charge _watched him read this book, Astrals above…_

“And,” Noctis continued, “after that we can invite Prompto over here and you are going to apologize to him.”

Ignis finally looked at the book he held against his chest. The bit of cover he could see from under his arm gleamed in garish colors. The subtitle along the bottom cheerfully exclaimed “The Ins and Outs of You!” at him, and he quietly loathed it. 

Noctis ushered him out of the apartment then, barely looking at him as he did so (or maybe that was just Ignis not looking at _anything,_ afraid that his embarrassment would reduce him to a molten puddle). Ignis made his way home, then, and walked into his own empty apartment. 

Ignis stood a moment in the center of his bare living room, furnished only with an overstuffed armchair he never used and a small standing desk piled high with papers. He felt somewhat at a loss. He was never home in the afternoons. He was always seeing to something or other, tending meetings, or helping Noctis with whatever needed his help. But he had a task to do; he’d promised. He took refuge in the quiet ritual of making tea, and then turned on some soothing music and settled in his armchair with… the book. 

It was not the sterile, scientific take Ignis might have preferred, but its casual approach certainly made it a quick read. As he began to recognize several things that he’d formerly glossed over in his _own_ behavior, Ignis grew more and more alarmed.

He’d assumed, once Noctis and Gladio had told him about his courting behavior, that he could will himself to stop. He believed in mind over matter, after all; he could control himself. 

Except apparently not. 

As the book explained, there were a lot of hormones involved; a lot of basal instinct that was difficult to dissuade. It was challenging to convince one’s alpha nature to abandon its pursuit of its chosen omega, once the choice had been made and courtship initiated and accepted. Now that Ignis thought about it, his recent choleric attitude could easily be attributed to his inner alpha rising up -- upset, perhaps, that he was neglecting his chosen omega.

As soon as Ignis made that connection, something deep inside confirmed it.

The sunlight from his window was just starting to turn golden when he reached the chapter addressing omega nesting habits. The further he read, the more his heart sank. 

_“Omegas only make nests where they feel at home”_ sparked a deep pang of guilt. That, and the bit on nesting materials. _“Anything soft will do -- though, omegas, you may find you prefer things that smell like your favorite alpha, if you have one.”_

Did Prompto have a favorite alpha? Ignis honestly had no idea… and suddenly his mind took a dark spiral down. The very thought that Prompto _might_ have a favorite alpha, and that it _might not_ be Ignis, burned so darkly in his gut that he actually growled. 

The sound of it in his silent apartment startled him.

He took a deep, calming breath and soldiered on… because that wasn’t _all_ that the book had to say about nesting. _“Once omegas have settled on a nesting site, alphas beware…! Anything you do to the nest sends a message. Adding to it says ‘Hey, keep it up!’ and taking stuff away can say ‘No way!’”_

A side box discussed it in more clinical language: 

_“The gift of nesting supplies from an alpha, especially the omega’s chosen alpha, can encourage more nesting behaviors and even induce heats. On the other hand, an omega will see the removal of their nesting materials once a nest is made as a sign of rejection, so it’s important to--”_

“Oh Astrals,” Ignis said aloud. “Do you mean--”

He was utterly horrified. 

Prompto had been _nesting._ And Ignis… Ignis had completely removed the entire thing. What kind of message had that sent? Ignis didn’t even need to ask. 

He dialed Noctis immediately. The prince picked up after three rings. “That was fast,” he said.

“Noctis, I… I feel like I should apologize.” 

There was a slight pause on the other end. “It’s not _me_ you should be apologizing to.”

Ignis sighed. “I know. I’ll be over in the morning. I… think I need some time to process this.”

“You do that,” Noctis said, and then disconnected. 

And Ignis spent the rest of the waning light wrestling with emotions he wasn’t sure how to handle.

* * *

In spite of his sleepless night, Ignis arrived bright and early Saturday morning at Noct’s apartment. To his surprise, he found the kitchen lit, and the prince himself already up, sitting at the table, munching on a bowl of breakfast cereal.

“Noct,” Ignis said, not bothering to temper the astonishment in his voice. 

“Hey, Specs,” Noctis said, barely looking at him, but not sounding tired at all. 

Ignis watched Noctis take a couple more bites before he could urge himself to move. Then he reached into his satchel and pulled out the book and held it out. Noctis looked at it, then up at Ignis. He finished chewing and swallowing before he reached out and took the book and set it beside his bowl on the table. Then he cleared his throat.

“You… ah… have any questions?” he asked hesitantly, as though he was hoping beyond measure that Ignis had exactly zero questions, thank you.

Ignis obliged. “Er, no.” 

“D’you… wanna talk to my dad about anything?” 

Ignis flinched. “Absolutely not.”

“Okay. Cool, cool.” 

For a silent moment, they awkwardly avoided looking at each other. 

To Ignis’s immense relief, Noctis broke the silence first. “So, what do you plan to do? I mean… you _are_ going to do something, aren’t you? Because not doing anything is not working, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Indeed,” Ignis breathed. “I think… I have a plan. But I’ll need your help.” 

“Yeah, because you’re _hopeless.”_

Ignis pinched the bridge of his nose. “Highness.”

Noctis threw up his hands. “Just saying!” Then he let them fall into his lap again. “Whatever you need, Specs… I’ll do what I can.”

“... Will you ask Prompto to be available after school on Monday?” Ignis asked. “I think I can make all my arrangements by then.”

Noct’s face softened. “On it.”

* * *

* * *

How Prompto managed to get any sleep all weekend, he had no idea. As it was, he arrived at school on Monday completely drained and totally not ready for whatever was going to happen after school.

Because _something_ was definitely going to happen. 

Noctis wouldn’t send a text like that if he didn’t mean it. His day was usually mapped out to the _minute._ If he wanted Prompto’s time, he’d have it, because his time was precious. But Noctis hadn’t explained himself. That was the worst of it; not knowing what this was about. Except Prompto was pretty sure he _did_ know. The dread of it hung over him through the first couple class periods as heavy as a cloud. 

Prompto wondered for a moment if his upcoming heat, which always affected his mood, was making it worse...

He took a deep breath, doing his best to ignore the muted pheromones of his fellow classmates. He could do this. He just had to make it to the first class he shared with Noctis, and then he’d know. For all Noct’s diplomacy training, he was an open book. If Prompto was on the outs with the royals, he’d know it in an instant. He just had to see Noct’s face.

Prompto wanted to get to Trig first, so he could watch the door and have a chance to gauge Noct’s mood before Noctis could see him, but he found himself dragging his feet as he approached the classroom. By the time he made it to the door, he could already smell Noct’s gentle petrichor scent, and he could see Noct’s stylish mop in the back corner, through the gobs of other students already making their way to their seats.

Prompto stood too long in the doorway, chewing his lip and pondering the benefits of running away. He was jogged out of his spiral by a nudge on his elbow. He jerked his head to see the Trig teacher, Mr. Caius, smirking down at him. “You joining us, Argentum?” 

“Y… yeah,” he said, and bounced into the room. 

He had to walk an entire row to get to his seat by Noctis, and that gave him an excellent view of Noct’s pensive expression changing to something bright and hopeful when he saw Prompto approaching. Then he met Prompto’s eyes, and his mouth turned down.

“You okay?” he asked.

Prompto considered lying. He wouldn’t get away with it, though, and that might just make things worse. So he shook his head.

Noct’s lips narrowed into a thin line and his scent turned sour. Not bitter and angry, just… sad. That didn’t really help. 

Prompto took his seat and pulled out his math things, doing his best to ignore Noctis. He’d been (not exactly) prepared for Noct’s coldness and scorn, but his gentle concern was too much -- and the last thing Prompto wanted was to start crying here in math class. That’s what he was going to do if he happened to see Noctis looking at him with worry -- so he didn’t look. He just stared at his desk.

At his math work. 

Over the course of the class, Noct’s scent was an anchor, comforting and offering some kind of stability. By the end of class, Prompto felt a lot better. He wasn’t sure whether to be glad or angry. He chanced a glance over. “You’re doing that on purpose.”

“What?” Noctis said. But with the way he avoided meeting Prompto’s eyes, Prompto was sure Noctis knew exactly what he meant.

Prompto had a couple other classes with Noctis that day, and though they sat together, they didn’t say much. Prompto thought they were probably both a little preoccupied with what was going to happen after school -- though at least Noctis was prepared for it, whereas Prompto could only guess at it, and fret. Especially in his last class, which he didn't share with Noctis. Without Noct's stabilizing presence, Prompto was left to spiral by himself.

The final bell rang at last, and Prompto sighed in relief. He headed slowly to his locker, knowing that at some point he’d have to meet up with Noctis and let the other shoe drop. He wasn’t anxious to find out.

It took him long enough that Noctis came searching for him there. “There you are,” Noctis said. “You ready?” 

“No,” Prompto said, and he hated how his voice broke on the word. But now that he’d actually said something, he had to follow through. “I just -- you didn’t say what we’d be doing, so. I don’t know what to expect? I’m… I mean, the nerves are kind of killing me, dude.” And he managed a shaky laugh.

Noctis gave him a look that _might_ have been sympathetic, if things were going well. “It… won’t be _bad,_ if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“Kind of,” Prompto said hesitantly. “I mean, you’re talking to me, so I guess it’s not going to be ‘Prompto can’t have contact with royalty’ hours...” 

Noctis blanched. “You really thought that?” 

“Well, yeah… what was I supposed to think?” 

Noctis rolled his eyes. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, but you’re kind of stuck with being my friend. Royal decree.” 

A small knot of the anxiety Prompto was feeling relaxed. A little, maybe. He picked up his pace, and rummaged in his locker for the things he needed. Once he’d strapped his satchel closed again and slung it over his shoulder, Noctis thumped his shoulder with a palm.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Prompto followed him out of the school and trailed behind him to the usual pick-up spot. Ignis and his crown-issued sedan were there in the customary spot. Just before they got to the car, though, Noctis made a sharp turn. 

“Wh… where are you going?” Prompto stammered. 

And only then did Prompto notice the huge truck parked right behind Ignis, and Gladio leaning against its hood. He wore a Crownsguard hoodie and ball cap, and watched the two of them approach with a wry grin.

“I’m going with Gladio today,” Noctis said, “and you’re gonna go with Ignis.” 

“What?” Prompto shrieked. “How come?” 

“He has some things to talk about.”

“With me?” Prompto whispered. “Dude, he’s been avoiding me for weeks. Why would he--”

“Yeah, that’s what he needs to talk to you about,” Noctis said, and then gave a casual wave. “Catch you later.” 

At that point, a car door shut and Prompto spun to look back at the sleek crown-issue sedan. Ignis had gotten out and was walking around its front to open the passenger door for him. Ignis smelled like sandalwood incense burning, that hint of smoke a tell that there was some kind of emotion roiling underneath his cool exterior. 

Prompto was already on edge, and this didn’t make things better. But Ignis gave him a small smile. 

“Prompto,” he said. 

Prompto short-circuited. 

At the sound of his name in Ignis’s voice, something deep inside surged up in a way Prompto had never felt before. An overwhelming sense of _‘Mine’_ was matched with an equally overwhelming feeling of betrayal and hurt, and Prompto froze under the weight of both of those feelings, and only snapped out of it when the huge truck’s motor rumbled to life, because Gladio was getting ready to drive away with Noctis.

Prompto turned and ran. 

He heard someone -- Ignis? -- call his name, but he didn’t stop; he sprinted through the front doors into the school and down the hall and through the gym to the cavity underneath the bleachers. He squeezed in among the dust bunnies and discarded candy wrappers, wrapped his arms around his legs, and hid his face in his knees. 

Noctis was aware of this hiding spot, so Prompto knew he wasn't going to be alone long, but hopefully -- _hopefully_ \-- it would be long enough for him to get a handle on what the heck was going on in his head. Heart. Wherever these stupid feelings were coming from. 

He didn't have long enough. 

The gym door slammed open and a patter of footsteps echoed in the empty hall. Then… 

"Prompto?"

It _was_ Noctis, just as Prompto had expected. Prompto lifted his face from his knees and spotted the Prince’s legs dashing towards the bleachers. Then he saw the Prince himself, ducking under the support bars underneath, dropping to his knees to crawl towards Prompto in the corner. For a minute, they just stared at each other.

“You’re gonna get your uniform dirty,” Prompto managed, though it sounded thin and broken. 

“What happened?” Noctis asked. 

“I have no idea,” Prompto squeaked. And now, Stars, he was crying. He wiped at his face with his palm. And ordinarily he wouldn’t say stuff like this to Noctis; it wasn’t Noct’s job to worry about his stupid friend. But the floodgates were open. “Nothing makes sense anymore. Why the hell should it matter to me what your glorified butler thinks of me? And why in the name of all that’s holy should I think he’s _mine_ at all? And why does this hurt so much?”

And now Prompto was ugly-crying, huge gasping sobs, and he couldn’t get any more words out, which was probably a good thing, because he’d already made himself look like an idiot in front of the crown prince, and even though they _were_ buddies, it was too embarrassing for words. 

Then to his horror, he realized that Noctis had crawled close enough to wrap an arm around his shoulders, and was patting his head soothingly, and mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like “I really AM going to kill him.”

They sat like that until Prompto’s sobbing faded to wet sniffles. The silence between them threatened to stretch forever, but then Noctis shifted and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“So first things first,” Noctis said, “Don’t ever let Ignis hear you call him a ‘glorified butler’... I think he’d take it personally.”

Prompto sniffed, and said, “Okay.” 

“And, ah, second…” Noctis trailed off, and Prompto thought maybe he’d changed his mind about talking, because he didn’t usually say much anyway. But then he inhaled and started again. “I’m not sure it’s my place to tell you this, but, ah… That ‘mine’ feeling? That’s your inner omega.” 

Prompto snorted and started to laugh, but when he glanced at Noctis, his buddy’s face was completely serious. “Wait,” he said. “That wasn’t a joke?” 

Noctis rolled his eyes. “I have a book I think you need to read, but for now… You know when Ignis started giving you stuff?”

Of course Prompto could remember. There’d been a time when he couldn’t think about much else. 

“That was his alpha side saying he likes you.” 

Prompto realized he was gaping and closed his mouth. “You can’t be serious.”

Noctis blinked at him. “You don’t believe me?” 

“Pffft,” Prompto said. “It’s _me,_ Noct. Ignis is so far out of my league, it isn’t funny.”

Noctis shrugged and turned away. “You don’t have to believe me,” he said. “I really shouldn’t be getting in the middle of this. You guys really need to talk this out yourself.”

Then Noctis crawled out from under the bleachers, tugging Prompto along with him. Prompto let himself be tugged. There wasn’t much else he could do; he couldn’t hide under the bleachers forever, despite what he wanted. Noctis kept his grip on Prompto’s arm, kept him moving forward, all the way outside, and didn't let go until they were almost to the car again. 

Ignis stood beside the sedan, leaning one hand against it, his head bowed. He was turned just enough that Prompto couldn't see his face. Gladio was leaning close to Ignis, and Prompto could see his mouth moving, but couldn’t hear what he was saying. Ignis gave a small shake of his head, and Gladio started to say something more -- but then he caught sight of Noctis and Prompto approaching, and he straightened. Ignis turned to face them too -- 

And at the sight of Ignis’s face, Prompto inhaled, a quick gasp. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought Ignis was… 

But Ignis wouldn't be crying. Ignis wouldn't do that.

Even as he looked, Ignis turned away, fiddled with his glasses, and when he turned around, he looked more normal. Prompto had to have imagined it.

With a friendly fist thump on his shoulder, Noctis pushed past him. “I’ll let you guys chat… Gotta run. Gladio! You ready?” 

“Just waitin’ on you, princess,” Gladio said, and soon enough, the two of them piled into the truck and headed away. 

And now it was just Prompto and Ignis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noctis: Yeah my dad was really good at explaining this; you should talk to him if you have questions  
> Ignis: _I’d rather die_


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis and Prompto have a much-needed chat. And then another one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up way longer than I anticipated... but it's done!

Prompto shuffled his feet, not sure where to look. He didn’t want to see Ignis’s distressed face. Just the thought of it hurt. Like, deeply. Like, he just wanted to bundle Ignis in blankets, find out his favorite take-out and _where the heck was all this coming from, omigosh…_

But he had to say something. 

He opened his mouth and said “I—” at the same time Ignis said “Prompto, I’m—”

They both stopped and stared at each other. Then they both chuckled, and the tension dissolved, just like that. 

Well, almost.

“I truly need to apologize to you,” Ignis said. “If you would allow me… I know a place with the most delightful curry. We could… eat? And talk?” 

Ignis’s uncertainty was so out of character for him, Prompto wasn’t sure what to think. But at the thought of food, Prompto’s belly made a long rumble. His day-long anxiety brain had kept him from eating much. His face went up in flames.

Ignis just smiled and didn’t say anything, the jerk.

Completely mortified now, Prompto mumbled an almost inaudible “Sure.”

Ignis opened the passenger door for him, and held it open until he climbed in and started pulling on his seatbelt. Prompto was so busy marveling at how comfortable the front seat was — he’d only ever been in the back with Noctis — that he didn’t really notice when Ignis pulled away from the curb until Ignis started talking.

“Noctis tells me that you, ah, as he put it, ‘don’t know much about all this omega stuff’.” 

If he’d been embarrassed before, Prompto was sure it was _nothing_ compared to this. He wanted to sink into the upholstery and vanish. If the car weren’t moving, he would have considered opening the door and throwing himself out. But he was stuck, and Ignis’s statement hung in the air like a brick.

Ignis seemed to take his silence as confirmation. “To be perfectly honest… I don’t know very much about ‘alpha stuff’ myself.”

Prompto swiveled his head to Ignis and stared. “You don’t?” 

Ignis wasn’t looking at him; he only had eyes for the road, which was perfectly Ignis. But he made a small smile. “My education, by and large, has been arranged through private tutelage — and when it came to… er… education of a sexual nature… it was left to my uncle.”

Prompto decided that Ignis was kinda cute when he blushed. 

… He banished that thought immediately. 

Ignis continued. “My uncle was…” His lips pursed. “Well. Let’s just say he was a reluctant educator on this particular topic, and also a… a beta. So he had no personal experience, when it came to my. Er. Presentation.”

It didn’t matter how nice Ignis’s blush looked on him, Prompto very much wanted this conversation to end. 

Maybe Ignis felt the same, because he took a quick breath and said, in a rush, “The point being… when I started giving you things, I… really had no idea what I was really doing. Or what it meant to both of us, when you accepted them. I think I understand better now, and… I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry? For giving me things?” 

Ignis winced. “Not that, so much... More that the manner in which I gave them _meant_ something to you as an omega, and I didn’t realize. What it was doing to you — and what it was doing to me.”

“I don’t understand,” Prompto said. 

Ignis gave him a rueful smile. “I think Noctis has a book that you might want to read,” he said. “You should ask him for it, when you see him again.” 

Prompto was completely confused now. But he pulled himself together just enough to say, “You really don’t have to apologize.” 

“It would put my mind at ease,” Ignis said, and there was a quality to his voice now that Prompto thought was far softer than he’d ever heard before. “Allow me to treat you to some food.” 

And then Prompto realized that they were parked, and Ignis turned off the car’s ignition and hopped out of the car before Prompto could protest, and sprinted over to the passenger door to open it for him. Prompto tentatively stepped out of the car and was immediately hit by the delicious aroma of curry. His stomach grumbled at him again, and Ignis smiled.

“Shall we go in?” he asked.

In spite of his confusion, Prompto managed a small smile. “Sure,” he said.

Spice and Thyme was amazing. Prompto had heard of it, and it served just his type of food. He’d never been there, though. It was way out of his price range. There were so many things on the menu that he wanted to try that he finally asked Ignis for a random number between one and twelve to make his final decision. He hoped beyond hope that he could come again to try some of the others. When he said so, Ignis smiled.

“I suppose that could be arranged,” he said. Prompto wasn’t quite sure how he should take that, so he ignored it.

Then they had to wait for their food to come. Prompto had dreaded this part, imagining the two of them staring away from each other in silence, unable to talk about anything in common… but he decided pretty quickly that Ignis must have some kind of training in holding conversation with boring people, because Ignis asked him a couple innocent questions, and pretty soon, they were chatting it up like old buddies. Prompto really hadn’t done that with anyone since Noctis.

Ignis led the way back to the car after dinner, and again opened the door for Prompto. He climbed in and sighed. The meal was great. Ignis’s apology had surprised him. But here he was, still in his school uniform, and… 

Wait. 

He fingered a greasy spot on his shirt, and sniffed it.

Curry.

Prompto groaned. When had _that_ happened? Ignis probably thought he was such a slob. He really needed to change now.

But then Ignis was getting into the car. Prompto quickly smoothed his shirt with a palm and then stuffed his hands under his thigh, pretending he hadn’t been doing anything with his shirt at all — as if by not drawing attention to it would mean that Ignis wouldn’t notice as soon as he saw it.

Once in the driver’s seat, Ignis grasped the wheel and sighed. His scent was prickly, like he was… nervous. Why would Ignis be nervous?

“Would you… I mean, I could take you home, if you like, but would you mind coming with me to Noct’s place first?” 

Prompto thought about the spot on his shirt. He opened his mouth to say “no” but what came out was “Sure, we can do that.”

Ignis smelled pleased, but Prompto fretted the whole way — and he wasn’t even sure why. Dinner was great. Ignis was fun to talk to. It was a complete 180 degree change from how he’d been treating Prompto for the past few weeks… and maybe _that’s_ why he was so nervous. 

They got to Noct’s, and Ignis led the way up. Prompto dropped his school satchel at the door by his shoes, and hesitantly followed Ignis through Noct’s hallway, into the living room… and there, on Noct’s couch... 

There was a whole pile of blankets. 

They looked new. They weren’t the handmade ones that were there before. They looked so incredibly soft. Prompto’s eyes went wide and he knew his mouth had fallen open. He probably looked like an idiot. He snuck a look at Ignis to see if he’d noticed.

Ignis _was_ staring at him, but not like he was looking at an idiot. It was more hopeful, like he was anticipating Prompto’s reaction. 

Prompto pointed at the blankets. “Are those… for me?” 

Ignis smiled. “I’m sorry it distressed you so much when I… when I took the other ones away.”

Prompto blanched. “Noct told you about that?” 

Ignis fiddled with his glasses, looking embarrassed. “He… told me how upset you were. I didn’t realize how much they mattered to you. They… They did actually belong to my uncle. I felt like I should return them.” Then he brightened. “But I bought new ones! I researched to find brands that specialize in appealing to omega sensitivities.”

A sudden bloom of warmth filled Prompto’s chest, and his anxiety fell away. He realized he was staring at Ignis, but suddenly it didn’t matter. “You did that for me?” he asked quietly.

Ignis ducked his head, and tucked his hands behind him as if he didn’t know what to do with them. 

Prompto wanted to hug Ignis. He wanted to hug him _right now._ He was pretty sure that wouldn’t be appropriate, though, so instead he approached the pile of blankets. He patted the top one and almost gasped when his hand sank into it. It was as soft as a cloud! He swiped his hand across it, flattening the grain of the fibers. 

To be honest, Prompto didn’t really know that much about — how had Ignis put it? “Brands that specialize in appealing to omega sensitivities.” He did know one thing, though, and that was that whoever had recommended this blanket to Ignis was an absolute _genius._

He put more weight on his hand, watching it sink into the soft billows. When he did, he got a whiff of the blanket’s smell… partly New-Blanket aroma, but combined with Ignis’s scent, too. Like, _really_ combined with Ignis’s scent; more than the other blankets had been. Those had only sort of smelled like Ignis. These… If he didn’t know any better, Prompto might have thought Ignis had pulled them off his own bed. But Ignis wouldn’t do something like that.

Prompto wanted to stand there forever, running his hands back and forth over the blankets, but Ignis started talking again.

“You’re free to…” Ignis gestured at the pile, “... do whatever you like there. Noctis told me your standard corner is still available, if you… want to curl up there.” 

Prompto laughed, a thin shaky sound. “He’s not even here. You sure that’s okay?” 

Ignis nodded. “You are certainly welcome to. I have some things to attend to for a moment, but then we could put in a movie to watch while we wait for Noctis to get back. Take whatever time you need… and all those blankets are available.”

Prompto eyed the pile. It was more blankets than he’d ever seen in one place… and all of a sudden he was itching to… do something with them. And that corner of the couch looked like the perfect place to do it.

He picked up the top blanket and got a start.

* * *

* * *

Ignis retreated to the kitchen and heaved a relieved sigh. 

Their impromptu early dinner hadn’t been enough to calm Prompto. Not only that, but the scent of Prompto’s anxieties was affecting _Ignis,_ too, working on his own alpha nature. Something deep within wanted to fight whatever it was that was bothering Prompto. But he couldn’t fight himself, and he knew that he was mostly responsible for how Prompto was feeling.

All that dissolved as soon as Prompto touched the blankets. 

Tension bled out of the omega almost immediately, and Ignis couldn’t help a smile. Several of the blankets were made of minky, which in particular had come highly recommended. Even Ignis could recognize their quality.

He’d… actually taken the rather presumptuous opportunity to pile them onto his bed last night. Deep inside, Ignis took deep satisfaction knowing that the blankets smelled like him. Prompto didn’t seem to mind. At least, he hadn’t complained yet, and was still using the blankets to make his nest.

With Prompto thus occupied, Ignis puttered throughout the apartment, clearing some of Noct’s garbage and sorting important reports into neat stacks for Noct’s later review. Then he went to the kitchen to pull together some snacks — popcorn, a small charcuterie and cheese platter, sliced pears — while the apartment filled with the floral overtones of Prompto’s content scent. 

The platter was ready and Ignis was just pouring a handful of raw popcorn kernels into the air popper when something made him freeze. He inhaled, deep and slow… Prompto’s scent had grown stronger. Almost overwhelmingly strong. He swayed and put his hands on the counter to steady himself. 

Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to join Prompto in that nest, to curl his arms around him, to tuck his nose into the crook of Prompto’s neck where he knew the omega’s scent gland was, and he felt himself start salivating at the thought of biting— 

Ignis fiercely shook that thought from his head. He swallowed and turned around.

Over the kitchen counter, beyond the dining table, he could see where Prompto was still tucking corners of the blankets into a tidy nest. Something was wrong, though… Prompto’s eyes were half-lidded, and his cheeks were flushed. He was humming to himself, like he hadn’t noticed anything unusual.

Something Ignis had read in The Book floated through his memory then. _The gift of nesting supplies from an alpha can encourage more nesting behaviors and even induce heats._

Ignis took another deep breath, inhaling that deep, floral sweetness, and in slow, dawning horror, recognized what was happening.

How close was Prompto to his usual heat? Surely if it was imminent he wouldn’t have said yes to dinner. But there was no mistaking… and Ignis had to… 

Behind him, the air popper started popping, and spilled the popped kernels onto the open counter. In his distraction, Ignis had forgotten to put a bowl there to catch it. And now, he found he couldn’t be bothered.

Ignis opened his mouth and croaked, “Prompto…?”

Prompto startled and his lips started to form a “what” sound, but when his eyes met Ignis’s, they went wide. Ignis had no idea what his face looked like, but he knew he had to get out of here now. “I’m sorry, but I… I must…” 

He turned and fled the room. He had just enough presence of mind to grab his phone and his keys, and then he was out the door. 

Outside the apartment, the smell wasn’t as overwhelming. Ignis gasped several deep breaths to clear his lungs — and then he yanked his phone from his pocket and dialed Gladio. 

Gladio answered as uncouthly as Ignis thought he might. “Thought you guys were making up. Or are you making out?” 

“Not funny, Gladio,” Ignis said, his voice still a little hoarse.

“What’s up?” Gladio said, and this time his tone sounded more like he was asking ‘what’s wrong?’ 

“There’s a situation, and I need you here.” 

“What kind of ‘situation’?” 

Words caught in Ignis’s throat for a moment. He took a deep breath. “Prompto has gone into heat.”

In the background, Noct yelled, “Are they kissing yet?”

“Not the time, Princess,” Gladio growled. Then to Ignis, “You at Noct’s place?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I got you. Get somewhere safe, Iggy, and I’ll be right there.” Then he hung up.

Ignis sank to the floor and put his head in his hands. He didn't stay there long, though, because Prompto's scent wafted to him from underneath the door, sweet and inviting at first, but then sour and desperate. Ignis moved first to the stairwell and then down the stairs to the lobby to prevent himself from answering his omega's distress. In the lobby, he was also able to intercept Gladio when he arrived, which he did pretty quickly, all things told. 

Gladio made a beeline for Ignis as soon as he entered. Then he stood, hands on hips, and chuckled. "You look like hell."

"A pleasure to see you, too," Ignis snapped. 

"He still up there?"

"I left him," Ignis said. "I had to— I couldn't— I can't vouch for what I might have done had I stayed. Gladio, he's upset, and I can't do anything." Ignis's own distress was leaking into his voice and he detested it, but there was nothing to be done.

Gladio's smirk shifted to a kinder smile, and he grasped Ignis's shoulder to give it a squeeze. 

"S'alright," he said. "Don't you worry; I'm on it. Noct's in the truck. Probably could use some company."

Then he disappeared up the stairs, leaving Ignis to his inner turmoil. 

* * *

* * *

Prompto had never really thought of his blanket forts as nests, but now, as he tucked corners and piled more blankets around him, he couldn’t deny that ‘nest’ was exactly what this looked like. He guessed he should feel self conscious about it, but it was hard, when Ignis had encouraged him to do exactly this. So he worked all the blankets in, humming as he went, while Ignis puttered in the kitchen. 

The whole thing felt… warm. Noct’s place really had become a second home to him. More home than home, really. It was pleasant, with the noise of other people being busy in the background. And this nest? Perfect. He stuck his face in the blanket and inhaled deeply, smelling Ignis’s scent, and feeling so incredibly satisfied. It was so comfortable and soft and warm… 

A little too warm, if he was to be honest. He thought about maybe asking Ignis to check the thermostat, but he didn’t _really_ want to be that kind of guest. 

And he needed to get this last blanket tucked in. It was being stubborn. Prompto was so busy trying to get it right that he didn’t even notice how quiet Ignis was until Ignis said his name.

The ‘what’ died on Prompto’s lips when he turned and saw Ignis, eyes wide with panic and nostrils flared. 

“I’m sorry, but I… I must…” Ignis stammered, and then… he was gone.

For a moment, Prompto could only blink at the empty spot where Ignis had been. Then a keening whine started up and it took Prompto a moment to realize that it was coming from _him. He was whining._

Mortified, he swallowed it immediately.

He saw the popcorn spitting itself all over the counter. Why hadn’t Ignis put a bowl there? What was wrong?

Prompto climbed out of the nest, careful not to disturb it… and trembled. 

Everything was wrong.

His skin felt prickly and hot. And he was starving. Ignis had been making food for them, but he'd left without saying anything, and now Prompto was alone in Noct's apartment and felt like he needed to claw his skin off. He wanted nothing more than to climb back in the pile of blankets; the softness would definitely feel better on his skin. But there was food to take care of now that Ignis wasn't there… 

And why did he leave? They were going to sit and watch a movie and eat their snacks, and maybe Prompto could have convinced Ignis to join him in the nest. And the thought of them together in the nest brought other thoughts of what they might do in the nest — shocking thoughts that he quickly stifled.

With a shudder he recognized abruptly what was going on here. 

And then he really panicked.

His heat wasn't supposed to come for another few days. He was pretty regular; he'd never been early like this. And yet here he was, caught unprepared, coming into his heat here in Noct's apartment instead of at home… 

And Noctis an alpha. And royal, to boot. This was a nightmare. 

What would Noctis think? What did _Ignis_ think? Was he mad? Was that why he left without saying anything? _What should Prompto do NOW?_

He _knew_ what he’d do if he were at home. He’d have a nice long warm bath, wrap himself in his softest towel, and then burrow in as many of his blankets as he could fit on his bed to ride it out. _He couldn’t do that here._ Besides… what would happen if someone discovered an unbound omega in heat in the prince’s apartment?

With _that_ happy thought, Prompto burrowed into the nest and pulled one of the blankets over him and then proceeded to obsess about what the King might do to him if he was found.

While he was in the middle of panicking about being thrown in the dungeon (did the Citadel even _have_ dungeons?) the front door knob rattled, and then someone was coming in. Someone with heavy footsteps. Someone who didn’t stop until they reached the kitchen, where the air popper still whirred, having long ago spat out all the popcorn it was going to pop. 

“Huh,” the someone said, and it really sounded like Gladio. 

The air popper stopped. Gladio must have unplugged it. In the new silence, Prompto listened to Gladio’s approaching steps from the relative safety of his nest. And now Prompto could smell Gladio’s faint floral musk — but Gladio never really smelled all that strong. 

It occurred to Prompto that it probably wasn’t a good idea for Gladio to be here with Prompto in his heat, but… Prompto really wasn’t reacting to him at all. And now he kind of wondered why.

“Hey, buddy,” Gladio said. “Looks like you guys had plans that got interrupted.”

Prompto did everything in his power not to whimper. He lifted a corner of the blanket to peek out. Gladio smiled down at him.

“What’re you doing here?” Prompto asked, near tears. 

“Iggy sent me up. Thought you might need some help.”

“He left me,” Prompto said, his voice thready and wet, and now he really _was_ crying, Sweet Six.

Gladio reached out a hand and ruffled his hair, and it felt way better than it should have.

“He did the right thing and you’ll thank him later.”

“How come you can be here and he can’t?”

“Well, I’m a beta, unlike those two. They’d both be going nuts, but your bouquet doesn’t affect me.”

_Oh._

Prompto sat up, letting the blanket covering him fall away. “You’re a— _You’re_ a beta?”

Then Gladio really laughed. “You wouldn’t think it, would you?” he said, flexing. The Crownsguard t-shirt he was wearing stretched thin over his pecs. 

It was true; Gladio had the typical build of an alpha. But that really didn’t matter in the end. 

What mattered was that he helped Prompto up out of the nest, handed him some of the sliced meats and cheese from the snacks Ignis had been making (which Prompto immediately horked down like the starving person he was), and he didn’t even mention that Prompto’s uniform trousers were damp in the seat from the slick that had very helpfully started up while Prompto had been curled up in the nest feeling sorry for himself. Gladio just offered Prompto a pair of Noct’s jeans and a grocery bag for his dirty things, and gave him the chance to clean up in Noct’s bathroom.

Then he patted Prompto on the shoulder and smiled down at him. “Let’s get you home,” he said. “I’ll take you in my truck. Just give me a moment to tell the other guys to scram.”

Gladio treated escorting an omega-in-heat past a couple alphas like everyday business, and not the hugely embarrassing thing it really was, and Prompto was immensely grateful. Grateful that Gladio hadn’t come to arrest him, for one, and grateful that Gladio was treating this all as a matter of course, and not drawing attention to Prompto’s shame. 

Shame that Prompto was, suddenly, acutely aware of. He’d chased Ignis away, was keeping Noctis out of his own apartment, all because of… Well, no reason he could tell. He knew his schedule. This shouldn’t have happened.

Maybe Gladio sensed Prompto’s unease, because he patted his shoulder again. “Hey, you’re okay, alright? This is just a thing that happens. We’re here for you.” 

Prompto burst into tears. 

Gladio pulled his hand away, and Prompto sensed him moving away, back into the depths of the apartment. Part of Prompto was glad Gladio was respecting his privacy, but another part was excruciatingly desperate to not be alone. It didn’t last long, though. Prompto didn’t hear Gladio return through his heaving sobs, but suddenly one of the blankets dropped over his head and shoulders. 

He made a startled hiccup and pulled the blanket around him. 

Gladio’s hand patted his head through the blanket. “There you go,” he said.

It took Prompto a moment to calm down, and when he did, Gladio patted his head again. “Ready?” he asked.

Prompto pulled the blanket down to free his head, and nodded. But then he pinched at the blanket. “Do you think… Could I… take this with me?”

Gladio gave him a wry half-smile and waggled an eyebrow. Prompto flushed. 

“I think Ignis would be absolutely delighted,” Gladio said. “He bought them for you, after all.”

That blossoming warmth sprouted in Prompto’s chest, and it was so strong that he hardly noticed when Gladio pulled out a phone and had a short “We’re taking the truck so clear out” conversation. He barely noticed when Gladio steered him out the door and down the stairs and helped him up into the passenger seat of the truck. The truck’s cabin, it turned out, smelled like both Noctis and Ignis, pretty strongly (they must have just been in there) and that distracted Prompto enough that he barely noticed when Gladio stopped in front of his own house until Gladio was opening the passenger door for him. 

Then he _finally_ blinked to awareness. “How d’you—”

“Got the directions from Iggy,” Gladio said, like he’d anticipated the question.

“But where’d _he_ get my address?” 

“Background checks,” was all Gladio needed to say, and on another day, Prompto might have been horrified, but today he took it in stride, because he was too focused on not just curling up on the ground where he stood. He only just managed to fumble for his keys and let himself in. 

Prompto dropped the contraband blanket on his sofa and staggered to his bathroom, where he stripped and stood under the shower until the water went completely cold. He just wanted to crawl into his bed, under all his blankets (with the one from Ignis) and drop into his heat haze in peace. So he dressed in his softest, loosest loungewear, and came out of the bathroom still scrubbing at his hair with his softest towel… to find Gladio still there in his living room, reading a book. 

Gladio peered at him over the pages. “Yo,” he said. “Feeling any better? Want something to eat?” 

And _then_ Prompto recognized the tantalizing smell of pizza. Gladio had ordered delivery while Prompto was showering. He was absolutely speechless. 

Gladio grinned at him. “You guys need to load up on carbs and stuff in your heat, so I got you something to tide you over.” Then he shoved a slice of the pizza (all meat) into Prompto’s hand and draped the blanket over his shoulders and gave him a gentle push towards the bedroom. “Go relax. I’ll put the rest of this pizza in the fridge so it’ll be here if you need it, and then I’ll leave you alone.”

Prompto took a couple stumbling steps before he stopped, and found his voice. “You… stayed. You got me pizza. You didn’t have to.” He gestured with the pizza. 

“I know,” Gladio said with his stupid shit-eating grin. “But Iggy asked me to make sure you were taken care of, so. I’ve done that, and now I’ll leave you alone.” 

“Iggy asked you to…?” Prompto mumbled -- and oh boy, here were the waterworks again…

“Hey,” Gladio said, gently. “You’re okay.” He patted Prompto’s shoulder. “Eat up your calories, take your blanket, and go lay down. I’ll lock up down here, and we’ll check in with you in a day or two, okay?”

“... Okay.”

And now the haze was really settling in, and even in his soft clothes, his skin felt prickly and off, and… he really needed to lie down. He made it to his room, made quick work of turning all his bedding into a nest, and crawled inside, his face buried in the super-soft blanket Ignis had given him, and there, surrounded by Ignis’s scent, and full of thoughts of Ignis’s kindness (and Gladio’s, too, but Ignis was responsible for it), Prompto let himself succumb to his heat.

* * *

Prompto dragged himself back into the world of the living two days later, knowing that there was a desperately-needed talk waiting for him. 

He went to school as usual. He checked in at the attendance office to turn in his heat excuse for the missed days, and then he headed for class. He waited an eternity for his first two classes to be over and done with, and practically sprinted to Trig. 

Noctis still made it first, but that didn’t matter. Prompto didn’t spontaneously combust from embarrassment when he saw Noctis, but it was a close thing. He pushed through it all the same, and marched right up to the prince. “I need to talk to Ignis,” he said.

“Yeah, you do,” Noctis said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “After school. I’ll text him.”

And that was that. They went through the rest of their day as usual. Noctis was a really good friend and didn’t tease him at all. Didn’t mention anything, in fact -- just handed him a stack of notes for their shared classes. Nothing else was said. Nothing else needed to be said.

After school, though, Noctis tugged his arm and dragged him to where Ignis waited with the car.

Gladio was there again, with his truck. 

“We’re gonna try this again,” Noctis said. “Gladio’s got me; you go with Ignis.” 

Prompto pursed his lips and nodded. He knew his face was aflame. Ignis was blushing, too, so. So they were twins, was all. 

Noctis climbed in the truck, and then he and Gladio were gone.

And now Prompto had to fight the nerves again. Different nerves, though, because instead of worrying that Ignis hated him, he was worrying that maybe Ignis didn’t like him as much as Prompto wanted him to.

Because deep down, Prompto couldn’t help thinking of Ignis as _his alpha._

Ignis seemed to be waiting for him to say something. That was enough for Prompto to screw up his courage. He drew himself up and opened his mouth. He should say ‘thank you for everything you did’ and ‘sorry I messed everything up’... What came out of his mouth instead was “I think you’re my alpha.” 

Prompto immediately regretted everything. 

Ignis’s eyes widened and his entire face went red. His mouth dropped open, but no sound came out for long enough that Prompto considered just sprinting home and forgetting he’d said anything to Ignis at all. Except that Ignis wouldn’t forget, because Ignis never forgot things like this. 

Ignis finally found his voice. “I’m flattered.” 

Prompto wouldn’t have believed him, except… that he smiled. Like, a true, genuine smile; not the tight, fake smile that Prompto was used to seeing on Ignis. This smile was like the sun peeking out on a cloudy day, and Prompto just about melted right there. 

It didn’t stay long. His face got all serious again, and he said, “I think we have a lot of talking to do, and I think perhaps a change of venue…?” 

And then Prompto remembered that they were at the school, and there were students still flowing past them. Some of his classmates peered at the two of them in curiosity as they passed, and Prompto wondered how loud he’d been talking, and if anyone had heard.

He grabbed Ignis by the wrist and dragged him away, walking in the direction of his house. 

Ignis didn’t pull away. He kept stride with Prompto, so Prompto let go before they’d gone too far. When the crowd of students had thinned a bit, they settled into a comfortable pace. 

Ignis was silent, and Prompto knew the ball was in _his_ court. He needed to say something. He took a deep breath. “Thanks,” he said. “For the blankets, I mean. They’re… nice.” 

“You took one of them with you,” Ignis said. It wasn’t a question. 

Prompto chanced a glance. Ignis was just looking at him without judgement. His face was open and curious. “Yeah,” Prompto said. “It… was nice. I mean… it… smelled like you.”

For some reason, Ignis blushed. He opened his mouth to say something, closed it, then opened it again. “I’m glad,” he said at last. “I wanted it to.” 

Prompto packed the implications of that away to examine later. “What I mean is… When you were giving me all those things? I liked that. A lot. It made me feel special. And I looked forward to coming to Noct’s house, because… because of the chance that you would be there.”

“I bought most of those things because they made me think of you,” Ignis said. 

They walked for half a block without saying anything, and then Prompto opened his mouth again. “When you just stopped giving stuff… when you took away the blankets… that really… I thought you hated me.”

“I didn’t,” Ignis rushed to say. “I stopped, because Gladio pointed out what I was doing. I was… I was courting you.”

“... Courting?” That was such a weird way to put it. 

“I desired your favor. I wanted you to be happy. I brought those first blankets to the apartment hoping you would like them. And I suppose you did.”

“I guess so,” Prompto whispered, staring at the passing sidewalk.

They turned the last corner to Prompto’s house, and Ignis reached for Prompto’s arm. They both stopped in the middle of the empty sidewalk. Prompto met Ignis’s eyes. He’d never noticed how green they were before… maybe it was the intensity of Ignis’s gaze, like he was trying to memorize Prompto’s face. Prompto felt his face flush and knew he was probably blushing something awful.

"You need to know something," Ignis said. "When you went into heat… it affected me, too. I… ah…"

"You left so fast," Prompto said. "I thought I was in trouble." 

"Yes, well…" Ignis blushed and averted his eyes. "You could say we both almost were. I wanted nothing more than to join you in your nest."

Prompto knew exactly what would have happened if Ignis had done that. He’d imagined enough during his heat, surrounded by Ignis’s scent.

“For a long time,” Ignis said, “I suppose I’ve wanted to gain your favor. I didn’t think of it as instinct, but I guess my alpha side recognized what it wanted before the rest of me did.” His fingers curled around Prompto’s hand, cupping it. Prompto didn’t pull away. “Your distress has been my distress. I’ve only wanted you to be happy.” 

Prompto’s eyes blurred and he blinked, only for tears to drip down his cheeks. Ignis reached out and wiped them away with a thumb.

“When you told me just now that you think I’m your alpha? I can’t tell you how much that pleases me. Because I’ve long felt that… you were _my_ omega.”

Prompto couldn’t handle it anymore. He broke down, putting a hand to his mouth to cover up the sobs. Then Ignis’s strong hands were on his shoulders, pulling him into a hug that he so, so wanted. He clutched Ignis’s shirt and cried into his shoulder, breathing deeply, savoring Ignis’s sandalwood and leather scent. They stood there like that, on the corner in sight of Prompto’s house, Ignis rubbing small circles on his back, whispering comfort in his ear, while Prompto did his best to calm down.

It took a while.

When he finally managed to stop crying, Ignis pulled away slightly, and cocked his head. “I suppose we have a lot of talking ahead of us, but… would it be too presumptuous of me to say… you are absolutely darling?”

Prompto giggled wetly. “Liar,” he said. “My face is blotchy and there’s snot running out of my nose. You don’t get to call me ‘darling’.”

"Ah, but if I'm your alpha, I think I do." His lips curled into a smile, and his eyes gleamed.

* * *

They walked back to the school and Ignis's car hand-in-hand, talking about nothing and everything at once. At the car, Ignis reached into the pocket in the driver’s side door and pulled out a little plush chocobo on a keychain. He handed it over, and Prompto couldn’t help cooing at how cute it was. “Thank you so much!” he said.

Then Ignis made… a noise. Something between a grunt and a purr. Some kind of emotion tingled up Prompto’s spine, and he wanted more than anything to know how to get Ignis to make that noise again. 

Ignis just looked extremely pleased with himself.

While they drove to Noct's apartment, they talked (at Ignis's insistence) about ground rules and boundaries. Specifically, Ignis firmly stated, no shared heats or ruts, and absolutely no biting. "Not until you're a legal adult," he said. 

And even though Prompto pouted about it, he knew in his heart that Ignis was probably right.

They went up to Noct’s apartment together, and there were Prompto’s blankets on the couch. (“Freshly laundered,” Ignis said. “I took them home and washed them for you.” Which was probably good, since Prompto had gone into his heat in them.) So Prompto settled in to build his nest again, reveling in the fact that while the blankets smelled of laundry detergent, they also smelled of Ignis. 

Meanwhile, Ignis pulled together snacks, queued up Netflix, and came to join Prompto on the couch. Prompto invited him to join him in the nest — and laughed when Ignis hesitated. Ignis pulled a small side table close to put the snacks on, then carefully climbed into the nest beside Prompto, folding his long legs to fit. Prompto totally didn’t giggle watching it. Not one bit. 

Not one bit, because he was super conscious of everywhere Ignis’s lean body touched his. He was conscious of how Ignis wrapped an arm around his shoulders as he started scrolling through all the shows. And when they settled on a gentle baking competition (Ignis loved cooking, after all), he was especially conscious of how Ignis leaned in to press lips against his forehead.

They spent the rest of the afternoon snuggled together in Prompto’s nest in Noct’s apartment, commenting on the bakers, and snacking on meats and cheese and crackers. At the end of the first episode, Ignis leaned in so Prompto felt the puff of his breath on his cheek, and Prompto turned his head just in time to catch Ignis’s lips with his own. 

Ignis made a startled noise against Prompto’s mouth.

Noctis and Gladio chose that moment to walk in on them.

Ignis broke away immediately, and Prompto fought the urge to hide in the blankets. Gladio, of course, catcalled at them, while Noctis made a disgusted sound. 

“D’you have to do that exactly _here?”_ he complained. “Can’t you do that in someone else’s apartment?” 

“Apologies, Highness,” Ignis said, not sounding at all sorry. 

Gladio folded his arms and grinned. “It’s about time, you idiots.” 

“Hey, Prompto,” Noctis said, scooping up a handful of cheese slices. “I’ve got a book you probably should read.” He moved to the bookcase.

Ignis made a noise. “Not that thing…”

“Hey, it helped _you.”_ Noctis found the book he was looking for and started pulling it off the shelf.

“He doesn’t have to read it _this instant.”_ Ignis said, and then he started to climb out of the nest. 

Prompto grabbed him and pulled him back in. “Nope, you’re not leaving.” 

Gladio chuckled again. “Well, it’s nice to see you two getting along.” 

“You can say that again,” Noctis grumbled. “Don’t ever make us do all this again.”

Prompto looked between them, puzzled. “Do what again?” 

“Nothing,” they both said.

And Ignis patted Prompto’s head. “Don’t worry about it, darling.” 

Prompto shivered. “Say that again.”

“Darling,” Ignis said, low and throaty, and in Prompto’s ear. 

Noctis groaned and Gladio laughed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for joining me for this little journey! ^_^


End file.
